Reflecting on how I think people see me in a general sense I stumble on an irritating confliction. Bound to be tied into my perception I perceive my thoughts teetering on whether I come across as negative or positive – it seems that some people seem to only be attune to the spoiled positive side, while others see the darkness that worships the light and only reaches its honey-like, nurturing essence at times when great battles are won.
Its funny, because I have yet to meet someone that can truly see me – the one that is in harmony with the centre that is ok with the struggle that the shadow invokes in me and the unserious, almost shallow, curious and humoristic side that makes a joke of everything and attempts to shrug off what seeks to damage this – seeking to be stronger – side of me.
It is within the positive side that I reside and take comfort in permanently and when people ask how I am doing I answer from here. Because in truth there is nothing, no battle that I am fighting, no fear that I am conquering that I do not somehow cherish as a strengthening and maturing, growing motion.
I think that I resonate with the ones that are in deep strife, because I too have areas inside that are working toward betterment, but I discredit its seriousness while others seem to see this as ‘life’. As though that is all there is.
On the other hand there is the extreme of being so carefree that for moments when I feel this sensation its as though nothing can bother me and I am ecstatic.
All too soon I get flacked and its back into my shell – that is why I seldom show or wear this stance in the world or my daily life. Its like a treasure that only the ones that wish to find can see. Its my mystical power that seems to be invisible, so I choose to show it in areas I feel comfortable in.
I think though, that the middle resonates the power to be calm and objective – the before-mentioned irritating extremes of black and white are actually hues that are so very difficult to put into spoken or written words. One has to feel the vibe I presume. The basis.
Why does my brain choose to categorize into good and bad, somehow involuntarily assigning into these two as if I have no choice but to be a slave to its simplicity. Like a switch that factors all experience into cascading arrangements that seem to be tied to the entire brain. Comparisons and the weighing between how deep, how broad, how intricate, genius or how mundane it is.
To get back to how I feel when thinking on how I am viewed – I cannot shake the conviction of common perception of thinking being a chore on the mind – when for me the analysis of complex parts of the soul is this joyous activity I cannot get enough of. It comes easily to me to dissect and translate to myself the myriad that is my thought-tree. It gives me endless pleasure to journey through my mind in search of greater opinions – yet when talking about it I am met with the stigma of being at the whim of my brain. It goes as far as people giving me the impression of thinking that I am being tortured.
I feel free from any form of bonds and roam like a unicorn. I cannot be tamed and its good like this. It is the only way I want to be and the only way I can be me. Therefore I treasure the ones that see it. Their the keepers.
To end things off I will conclude with this: to truly be capable of experiencing the colourful nature of another, one has to journey into the self – this makes it so very vital to do the spiritual work associated with it. In essence: the more you know yourself, the better you can understand others. This becomes a never ending practice that eternally yields contentment, joy and compassion.